


Not Happening

by dragonspell



Category: Dark Angel
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-06
Updated: 2010-01-06
Packaged: 2017-10-20 00:23:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/206821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonspell/pseuds/dragonspell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Max uses Alec to distract a drunk Normal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Happening

All I can say, as I bury my face in the mattress and try to pretend this isn’t happening, is that Max better damn well appreciate this. And that whatever she’s doing, I better get a cut of the profits, because seriously, this is like nine kinds of fucked-up.

At least the sheets are clean I think just a little bit hysterically even as my brain is furiously trying to think of excuses on how to weasel out of this. The only remotely good thing about this situation is that Normal is three damn sheets to the wind right now and there’s a good possibility he won’t remember any of this by tomorrow.

Normal’s not exactly hideous, per se, but he’s not exactly the kind of person I really want to be fucking, if you catch my drift. The man has a _gladiator_ fetish for crying out loud. A gladiator fetish that includes _me_ , I might add.

I’d just been out living my life peacefully when Max had shown up and dragged me forcefully out of what had previously been a rather nice shower. What the Hell, right? I mean, I get that she thinks that I’m like her bitch or something but there are _lines_. Somewhere.

I’m pretty sure I’m definitely past them at this point.

For some _crazy_ , _unshared_ reason, we’d had to steal something that Normal had unknowingly picked up when he’d picked up the wrong briefcase one day. One of those classic damn scenarios that never fucking happen outside of TV, except, though, you know, for _this time_ , of course. And _of course_ we were in the process of finding it when Normal had actually shown up at his own apartment, drunk as a skunk and giggling to himself. Because that’s just _awesome_.

Needing a distraction, Max had not even hesitated about giving away my ass. So much for those “family” connections she’s been talking about. At the end of the day, apparently all I am to her is an easily disposable whore or something. A man could almost be hurt by something like that. She’d kicked me out of the damn closet (literally not just metaphorically, here), and told me to go show Normal a “good time.”

“ _What?!_ ” I’d squeaked and tried to scramble back inside but by that time, it’d been way too late. Normal had come stumbling around the corner and had just lit up when he saw me. He’d slurred something that may have been my name, a compliment, or an order for some kind of fish, I’m not sure, but I’d flashed him a smile anyway. Granted it’d been a weak one, but Hell, I shouldn’t be expected to perform at optimum with only ten seconds warning time. Seriously now. I think it had been a damn fine job, if I do say so myself.

“Whayadingere?” Normal had asked next but luckily, my drunkese translator was finally kicking in. I’d fed him a bullshit line about coming to see him and couldn’t stop the little bat of my eyes when I’d done it—just fucking instinct, okay? Normal had said, “Oh,” mildly but I’m pretty sure he misunderstood my message a little bit because he’d launched himself at me and pinned me to the wall.

“Wha—” I’d gotten out before I’d been brutally silenced with a sloppy, drunken kiss while Normal felt me up and there had gone any chance I had of getting out of this situation with my ass intact. I’d whimpered, not in arousal, though Normal’d been more than happy to take it that way, but in outright terror because oh my God. Max, I’d thought, had better damn well hurry up.

So a bumbling, bruising push down the hallway later and somehow, we’d end up here in Normal’s bedroom. I’m on my hands and knees on the bed but at least my clothes are still on. Normal’s behind me babbling on about—oh God— _gladiators_ and how radiant my skin looks. Something about how he’d like to roll me in oil...

I swallow hard and try not to think about what I’m about to do. Or about how easily I’m offering my ass up here. Seriously, I think I might have put up more of a fight for the Manticore trainers.

His hands are freaking _everywhere_ , though, and I’m too slow to bite back my moan when he slides between my legs. Hey. It’s a _hand_ on my _dick_. I can’t be held accountable for my actions because of course it’s going to feel good. And it’s not like Normal is a mutant rapist or something. I realize what I’m trying to talk myself into, but I’m also rationalizing that it’s really for the greater good. And at least I know Normal’s not going to hurt me—well, intentionally anyway. I have to amend that last statement as he gets overexcited and slips, collapsing on top of me.

“Oof,” I groan and he starts slurring an apology but I’m really not listening too hard because again, there’s an accommodating hand on my dick and even as uncoordinated as it currently is, it’s still managed to get my fly open. My hips stutter forward and I whine because apparently all this running to and fro with Max has not been good for my health. It’s been too long since I’ve had time to get laid. He’s grinding against my ass and it shouldn’t feel good but it does. _Way_ too long.

So I mournfully surrender my dignity, resign myself to this maybe, sort-of happening, and started arching appreciatively under Normal. Hey, it fucking feels good, okay? Can't blame a guy for enjoying a little touching here and there. Plus, I get the feeling that Normal must jerk off a _lot_ because he certainly seems to know what he's doing, even drunk off his damn rocker.

His fingers curl around me and I'm just out and out purring like the revving of an well-oiled engine when my phone goes off, snapping me back into the real world. I jerk upwards, realizing what I’m doing again and push him off of me as I flip on my back to answer the cell. I scramble though my pockets, brain's functions slow to come back online and fucked if I can remember where I actually put the damn thing. Normal’s staring at me vaguely slackjawed, almost kind of like he’s half-asleep and thinking this is all just another one of his usual dreams. Poor bastard.

“I’ve got it,” Max says shortly when I flip open the phone. She's not going to bother with such niceties as 'hello.' “Meet me back at Logan’s.”

I stare up at Normal who’s pushing up my shirt to bare my belly, staring at me in a way that’s got me licking my lips. I close my eyes. Way, way, WAY too long. “What about…?” I trail off, not wanting to say his name and trusting Max to understand.

I can freaking _hear_ Max’s shrug over the phone and that’s an impressive skill—long-distance shrugging. “Knock him out.” She hangs up after that and I’m left staring at the phone.

Normal’s slowly crumpling back on top of me, his balance not stable enough to hold himself up anymore, judging by the way he’s swaying and I frown at him. He doesn’t deserve to be knocked out, I think. Not like he asked for it or anything. His head tilts to mouth at my jaw and I grit my teeth. This has got to stop, though.

“Hey,” I say softly. “Hey, hey, hey, um, Normal?”

“Mmm?” he mumbles, not lifting up his head.

If I can get out from underneath him, there’s a good chance he’ll fall asleep right now. Sleep this whole damn incident away. It sounds like a plan, so I push a little at his shoulder. “Hey, so I’m still in my clothes and all, ‘cause this was all rather, uh, sudden…” He staring at me now with a little hint of interest and I know I’ve hit upon a winner. “So, uh, what do you say, I go…slip into something more comfortable?” And now he’s nodding like that would be the best idea ever. I give him a smile, can’t help but notice the way he’s eyes are just blown all to Hell, and gently push his unresisting body off me. It’s a bit of a struggle, but I manage to make it to the edge of the bed, pushing off.

“Coshume’s ondoor,” Normal slurs at me, even as his eyes are starting to close.

“Okay,” I say, zipping myself up. Fuck. “I’ll be right back.” I give him a little wave and retreat to the bedroom door. Just before I exit through it, I catch a glimpse of the costume Normal had been talking about and I can’t repress my shudder. Gladiator fetish is right. I wince, wondering if that skimpy compilation of leather straps is something that he pictures me in nightly before I push the entire thought clean out of my mind. Better for everyone that way, I think.

I close the door softly behind me as Normal starts to snore. Yeah, hopefully with any luck, he’ll just think this whole thing was another wild and crazy dream if he remembers at all and who knows, maybe in his dreams, I’ve already come back dressed in leather.

Max _so owes me._  



End file.
